


Actions Overdue

by paladromes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Child of divorce, Divorce, Fix-it WAY later fic, M/M, Sick Character, there will be no death in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladromes/pseuds/paladromes
Summary: Shiro's daughter never warmed to the idea of Keith being back, certainly never in a permanent way.  Years later, it's time for them to finally talk about...well, why they don't talk.  Wading through years of avoidance and antagonistic remarks is the absolute last thing either of them want to be doing, but as always, it comes down to the simple truth: they love Shiro.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is going to be painful, but I promise it won't be without payoff or without its sweet moments. Please just trust that I have no intention of letting you suffer permanently.

“Listen, I know you hate me, message fucking received,” Keith tells her, the anger in his voice rounded out by deep sorrow. “But I’m here for you anyway. I always have been. I let you have him to yourself as much as I could, but when shit was rough, I was _there_.”

“Yeah right,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I _was_. When you had appendicitis and your dad was holding you on the way to the hospital, who the hell do you think was the one driving you guys there like a bat out of hell? Kosmo? Who do you think talked _both_ your dads out of that ridiculous fucking plan to make you come to the wedding? And the finals care packages that never had one of those sappy notes Shiro loves writing? Me. And I never expected you to turn around and like me because of that, I wasn’t planning to call in a favor from it. But it looks like now I am. I need you to quit treating me like some kind of evil step-monster.”

“Why?”

“Because it upsets him. It always has, but he really doesn’t need this shit right now, so I need you to be civil with me.”

“I mean why would you do all that shit? I’ve been pretty actively tormenting you for like fifteen years. I know I wouldn’t’ve done any of that crap for you.” She crosses her arms and leans against the back of the booth. Keith tries not to bristle. That won’t help anything. He takes a deep calming breath the way Shiro taught him to do so many years ago, and when he lets it out he tells her,

“Because you’re a part of him, and I promised to love and protect all of him. And there’s no way I’m gonna half-ass those vows. I’ve got your back too. As long as I live.”

“You mean as long as Dad lives.”

“I mean what I said. Even if you never want my help, I’ll always be here. Whatever happens with Shiro, you’re part of my promise too. He’s it for me - I’m not making that kind of vow to anyone else. If I spend the rest of my life trying to live up to the man he is, it would be enough.”

“That’s fucking sad, Keith.”

“My husband would be dead, I hope it’s fucking sad.”

“I meant pathetic.”

“I doubt my pride would enter into much of anything at that point.”

“Do you have a romantic tragedy line for everything?”

“I was going for witty one-liners, but I guess you just don’t know my humor yet.” He raised an eyebrow at her. It was true. Fifteen years and she didn’t really know a damn thing about Keith other than what she blamed on him. 

 

Curtis had been transferred - offered a much better job on the east coast, and he wanted it bad. It was the next step up in his career and there were no upper level positions near coming available in Arizona. He’d broached the topic to Shiro after Katie had gone to bed that night, sitting down in the extra chair in Shiro’s study as he poured over papers.

“You what” Shiro asked, looking up abruptly from his work, though his voice was without affect.

“I take it from the lack of ‘congrats, babe’ that you’re not psyched about that idea.”

“I just - Katie’s school -”

“Is far from her favorite place to be. And I know twelve is hard, but it really is kind of the last chance for us to move her. Once she gets to high school it gets complicated with college and friends.”

“But what about -” Curtis pursed his lips, understanding Shiro’s real meaning.

“Your friends?” Shiro ground to a halt and he wanted to somehow defend himself. But was it really such a horrible accusation, to not want to move away from his friends - the only real family he’d ever had. He said as much, and Curtis frowned.

“Katie and I are your family.”

“Family’s more than that. I don’t have relatives, I have the paladins. I have the Holts. I have -” He paused again, grinding to a halt as he realized that the natural third beat _“I have Keith”_ was no longer true, and hadn’t been for some time.

“Yes?” Curtis knew what that pause had been about too. He’d put up with Shiro’s months of grieving for the estrangement, as he puzzled over how the best friend he’d ever had, the one-time twin soul, had just fizzled and faded away. Curtis had been sorry for Shiro’s distress, but never seemed too bothered about the absence of Keith himself.

“I don’t think I can leave them,” Shiro confessed. Curtis crossed his arms, standing from his seat.

“Well you can’t ask me to just give up on my career because you’d miss game night with your bros.” Shiro closed his eyes, hands tensing on his knees.

“You know it means more than that.”

“I thought _I_ meant more than that.”

“I never thought you’d make me choose.” It was all so very quiet, this fight they were having, so long overdue.

“What are we gonna do about this?” Maybe they should’ve slept on it. Maybe they should’ve let themselves get angry and wake Katie and then fixed it right then and there if only to make her feel better. But that wasn’t who either of them were. So they stayed in the office. Curtis sat back down. They reasoned it out, and came to the only conclusion that led to both of them keeping what they deemed essential: divorce. They did decide to sleep on it then. Curtis didn’t have to give work an answer until the end of the week, so they gave themselves until then to ruminate and decide if they wanted to go through with it. Shiro moved into the guest bedroom that night. Despite the ostensibly trial nature, he didn’t think he’d be back.

The feeling was confirmed the next morning when he went into work and left his wedding ring in the glove compartment. A couple coworkers commented on it, and he brushed it off, saying he forgot it by the sink when he was shaving that morning. He still felt unburdened somehow, like he was returning to himself in a way.

Then next day, only the biggest gossip of the office asked about the ring. Shiro said it didn’t fit back on his finger when he tried, blamed it on a salty dinner.

The third day of no ring, everyone kept their comments to themselves. Shiro hung his hand out the window to drive home, wondering how long it would take for the tan line on his finger to be the same color as the rest of his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is ordered. Shiro returns to the Garrison.

“You blew up my parents’ marriage, you can’t _possibly_ expect me to pity you.”

“ _First_ of all,” Keith says, holding up a finger, “I don’t want you to pity me. _Second_ ,” he held up another finger, “I had nothing to do with that, I was in deep space and had been for years. Your dad and I hadn’t spoken since before you were born. I didn’t even know if he still lived in Arizona. If you need answers about what happened with your parents, you have to ask one of them - it’s not my place to talk about it.” Katie drew in a long breath and let out an annoyed sigh. Keith sipped at his coffee, letting her decide how to respond. Every few seconds, her lips or eyebrows would twitch in a way that looked like she might’ve found the right comeback, only for her face to even out again.

They were eventually saved from the awkwardness by Hunk bounding out of the kitchen and over to their table.

“Keith! Nash just told me you were here, what’s up man?” He was squeezing Keith in a bear hug before he could answer, but that was much more important. Good old Hunk, always with a sixth sense for when one of his friends needed some love. Keith squeezed back, and when Hunk released him, he turned to the other side with a bright grin that slipped when he realized Katie was his companion, before being recovered as he greeted his niece with a bear hug of her own. “Hey Katie-cat, fancy meeting you here!”

“Hey Uncle Hunk. I’m just out visiting Dad for a couple weeks. They’re finally making me use up my vacation time and all that.”

“Well hey, that’s awesome. Glad you’re here, we don’t see enough of you.” She looked down at the menu lying on the table.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“‘S cool, ‘s just nice to have you around,” Hunk reassured, patting her on the shoulder. “So, where’s Shiro?” Keith cleared his throat and told him,

“It’s actually just me and Katie tonight.”

“Oh.” Hunk angled himself so Katie couldn’t quite see him and asked quietly, “Is everything okay?” anxiety edging into his voice.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he promised, chest tightening at the thought that this was his life now: having people wonder, whenever they saw Keith out without Shiro, if that was about to become the new normal. Hunk bit his lip.

“Good.” He kept looking at Keith though, and after holding his eyes, gaze imploring, he mouthed, _for real?_ Keith nodded once and picked up his menu, signaling the end of the conversation. “So, uh, what’re you havin’?” Keith gestured for Katie to order first.

“Oh, uhhh...fish tacos?”

“You got it. Keith?”

“Meatloaf.”

“Coming up.” Hunk patted Keith on the shoulder and disappeared back into the kitchen. As soon as he was safely out of earshot, Katie picked the conversation back up.

“I’m not gonna ask him about that. He’d never say anything to make you look bad.”

“You do have another dad,” Keith reminded her. He really didn’t want Katie bothering Shiro about old wounds anyway, and he knew Curtis would tell the truth if nothing else.

“He won’t say anything to make Dad look bad.”

“If nobody wants to blame anyone, maybe there’s just no one at fault.”

“People don’t just go from fine to divorced, _Keith_.” Keith didn’t bother to tell her things must not’ve been fine.

 

It should’ve felt sudden, how quickly Shiro went from having a husband and daughter waiting at home to waving goodbye to the loaded moving truck and returning to what was now a bachelor pad. A bachelor pad with three bedrooms and math tests on the fridge and matching “his and his” tuxedo mugs in the cabinet. In the suburbs. Katie had left her summer clothes and her less-beloved books and stuffed animals, and her bed was still made, but the absence of posters and photos and worn stuffed lion were eerie. Somehow much more glaring than the fully empty closet, dresser, and bathroom shelves in his own room.

Maybe because there had been real frisson in the packing of Katie’s things - a clear splitting of a life. Emptying the master bedroom of Curtis’s things had been so simple comparatively. All their things had been neatly tucked on their sides of the room, which corresponded to their sides of the bed, and even the bathroom vanity. When all was said and done, without the constraint of single doorways, their lives might’ve been entirely parallel. Even unpacking the lions when Voltron disbanded had been more complicated. Once they recovered from the liberation of Earth enough to move into their quarters on ATLAS, Shiro had found his possessions mixed liberally with the other paladins’. 

He’d returned a soft t-shirt borrowed from Hunk, a headband from training with Lance, a trashy sci-fi novel Keith had found on a swap moon, and a screwdriver Pidge had lent him when he had his old prosthetic. In turn, Allura had given him back sweatpants (“a _marvelous_ human invention - I must acquire my own). Keith had traded him back the _Die Hard_ DVD he’d found on a different swap moon. Pidge informed him she was keeping his hoodie. And Lance gave him a rejuvenating facemask because “you need it way more than I do, man.” 

It was those memories, really, that led him to show up at the office of Sam Holt two months later, having just handed in his two weeks’ notice at his civilian job, and asking if there was any way he could be of service. Sam had been in shock, but quickly collected himself enough to ask, “Are you sure that’s what you really want, Shrio?”

“I’m sure, Sam. I spent a long time running, but I don’t think I ever believed I was done.” Sam gave him one of his familiar fatherly stares, concerned, but warm and proud all the same.

“You worked so hard to get out. You’ve given enough. Don’t punish yourself for this - sometimes marriages don’t work, people change too much.”

“That doesn’t stop you and Colleen,” Shiro reminded him, a sad smile on his lips. Sam’s face softened at the mention of his wife and it made Shiro’s chest hurt. This was precisely why he loved the Holts so much - they were a family that chose each other as much as they’d been thrown together. “I think the real problem was that I wasn’t being myself at all. The suburban dad thing, that’s not me. It’s why Adam broke up with me in the first place. And as much as that hurt, he was right not to force it. If he’d still been around, he would’ve called my ass out in less than a minute. I was myself when I was at the Garrison, when I was with Voltron. But…” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Yourself must’ve been a pretty difficult thing to be after everything,” Sam guessed, seeing right through Shiro as always. No wonder Matt and Pidge were so irritatingly well-adjusted.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, then signed the reinstatement papers on the desk in front of him.

“Welcome back, Captain Shirogane.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earlier in the night...

Back at the desert house, Shiro was pacing. It was only a medium pain day, but the worst he’d felt in about a month. Things had been tense for the past couple of days, since he’d picked Katie up from the airport and she’d walked into the house to find Keith stirring a pot of chili on the stove. As usual, her face shuttered the moment she laid eyes on him, and she gave terse answers to his questions of _How was the flight? Choppy. How’s your pop? Good. How’s work? Fine._ Keith had nodded at each answer, not expecting anything more at this point, then told her dinner would be another half an hour. She’d taken the out immediately, pecking Shiro on the cheek and disappearing upstairs with her suitcase. 

Shiro let out a breath and pulled Keith into his arms, convincing his husband to abandon his work for a moment to hug him back. He breathed in the scent of the 2 in 1 shampoo they both used, felt how Keith was still a little damp where his hair covered his neck. Keith’s hands smoothed over his back, and Shiro tried to let go of the tightness in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Keith murmured against his ear. Shiro’s vision blurred with tears at the sadness in his husband’s voice.

“It’s not your fault,” he reassured, squeezing tighter. Keith’s fingers dug more into Shiro’s t-shirt. “I never thought she’d blame you like this. I thought she had to outgrow it.”

“You’ve tried your best,” Keith told him. “Sometimes people just need an easy target. I can be that a couple weeks a year.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“A lot of things shouldn’t happen,” Keith reminded him, and Shiro tried not to think of how many ways Keith meant that - for the war, for their falling out, for Katie’s grudge, for the pile of prescriptions that promised to fix Shiro but just made him feel like exhausted crap instead. “Doesn’t mean we can’t survive them anyway.”

“As many times as it takes,” Shiro promised, for all of Keith’s reasons, but especially the last one. And what a gift it was that Keith always took Shiro’s word above all other proof, in spite of a now-gaunt face and an alarming sleep schedule. Shiro had already overwritten the terminal disease written into his very DNA; if he said this too would pass, then it was certain. He didn’t know how to thank Keith for belief like that, so instead he just kept hanging on, sealed to Keith’s back as he returned to his work at the stove, letting the chili bubble away, scraping the bottom of the pan to keep it from burning, offering the spoon over his shoulder for Shiro to taste, then suggest more chili powder. Keith didn’t bother to try it himself and added a dash from the shaker on the counter. When Keith’s hands were idle, they rested over Shiro’s where they were laced over his stomach. Shiro kept kissing the side of his husband’s face and murmuring sweet things to make him smile. Keith shut off the burner at long last, and rested the spoon aside.

“Soup’s on!” he yelled, loud enough that Shiro jolted back from him, only to reel Keith back in, each of them leaning a hip against the counter as they stood chest to chest. 

They didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs, too caught up in each other. Shiro leaned close and told Keith, “I love you so much,” before brushing his messy hair back and pulling him into a soft kiss. The moment was shattered by an irritated clearing of a throat, and they pulled back to find Katie looking fixedly at the pot and not the couple.

“Dinner?” she asked. Keith flushed, and seemed annoyed with himself for being flustered in his own home, but he stepped out of Shiro’s embrace anyway.

“Yeah. There’s cheese and sour cream in the fridge if you want to put some on yours.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Okay then, uh, you know where the bowls are I guess.”

“Unless you moved them, yeah.” Shiro flinched and hoped that Keith had, impossibly, somehow, missed the dig. Katie had always hated the desert house, partly because it meant Shiro left the house he and Curtis had raised her in, and partly because it was in the middle of nowhere. _Scenic East Bumfuck, Arizona_ Keith had teased on their wedding night, crawling into bed after Shiro with a dangerous grin. 

They were happy there, though. After the war, Keith and Krolia had spent the downtime between missions picking away at restoring Tex’s house to its’ former shabby charm, and when he married Keith, Shiro couldn’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else. He could never ask him to part with the place that had housed the happy early years of his life, and he secretly believed in the luck of a place that had known love like what Krolia and Tex had for each other and for their son. It was quiet too, and Shiro had decided almost immediately after the divorce that he loathed everything about the suburbs, with its new-ish, cookie-cutter houses and nosy neighbors sniffing around for gossip and offering unsolicited compliments and cracks about Keith. No, the house was perfect, with him and Keith in Keith’s old room, having refused Krolia’s offers to take over the master bedroom on both principle and sentiment, and a room for Katie, decorated painstakingly in her favorite colors. Keith had been so hopeful that this “wedding present” would reassure Katie once and for all that he wasn’t stealing her father, that she had a place in their life. But, things that shouldn’t be and all that.

Dinner wasn’t silent, but the conversation was noticeably confined to Shiro and Katie. She rambled on about projects at work and the new guy she had started seeing, and how Curtis was planning a vacation with his longtime boyfriend. Shiro responded enthusiastically to all of it, prying for details about the guy and remarking that the Berkshires were supposed to be gorgeous this time of year, and oozing fatherly pride. Keith did his best to fade into the background, trying not to step on the moment. Inevitably though, dinner came to a close, and Shiro was feeling run down. He tried to protest when Keith nudged him towards the stairs to shower and go to bed, but knew it was fruitless.

Keith gathered the bowls from the table and dumped them in the sink, starting the tap to fill it with soapy water. Katie followed him, leaning against the counter in a warped mirror of him and Shiro earlier.

“He’s getting worse.” It wasn’t a question.

“The meds wear him out,” Keith told her. “But his scans are showing improvement, so they’re doing their job.”

“I don’t think he should be all the way out here,” she said. And there it was, her real reason for coming back West, for coming into Keith’s kitchen, for deigning to speak a full sentence in his direction. This was her chance to take him away, to drag him away from Keith’s faded sandy hovel and back to civilization. What did she expect to happen? That Shiro would step out into the light of a revitalized Main Street and realize he’d missed out, made a terrible mistake and signed his life away to boredom and 

“We’re managing just fine.” Keith tried to keep his voice level.

“And when you’re not?” She crossed her arms, and her voice rose as she asked, “How long would it take an ambulance to get here? Would they even be able to _find_ you guys?” Keith shut off the water and grabbed the dish rag, plunging his hands under the suds so she couldn’t see his fists clenching and unclenching. He grabbed a bowl and started rubbing at the dried cheese and smears of tomato.

“I know,” he gritted out, “that you’re worried about him, and that it’s hard to believe it, but he’s getting _better_.”

“Are you fucking delusional? Look at him!” She waves her arm out to the living room and the stairwell Shiro had disappeared up at a startling 8pm. 

“Looks are deceiving. The scans are good - _he’s_ good. Okay?”

“You’re being selfish, keeping him here. He needs to be closer to his doctor.” 

“He doesn’t _want_ to be closer to his doctor. We’ve talked about that, not that you’d know. I’ve been taking care of him by myself for months - don’t you _dare_ come in here and tell me I’m not doing a good enough job.”

“As if you would’ve let me help!” Katie shouted, fists balled at her side and cheeks turning red, eyes watering. “You keep him shut up out here, you keep him all to yourself, and pretend like I don’t care! Does that make you feel better? He never comes to visit _me_ , it always has to be the other way around! And it’s _always_ been like this!” The tears leaked out and ran down her cheeks, and she looked all of fourteen again, just like the time they’d taken her out for her birthday and she’d gotten one look at the new ring on Keith’s hand and had burst into angry sobs. Shiro had followed her into the family bathroom to calm her down and Keith had walked back to Shiro’s to get his bike and opted to spend the rest of Katie’s visit out in the desert.

But that was over ten years ago now, and Keith was married - he was a damn good husband, and had tried his best to be a good stepfather too. And he was tired, so tired of being Katie’s punching bag over the truth she refused to accept about her dads, but still he took a deep breath and tried to let it go. For Shiro, and for the angry, shitty kid he’d once been himself and Shiro had loved anyway, he could _let this go_.

Only she went one to far this time.

“If you really loved him -” she started, but Keith cut her off, yanking his hand out of the sink, sopping dish rag splattering them both as he held up a single finger to silence her. When he spoke, his voice was heartbroken, a long-overdue surrender finally ripped out of him. 

“Get out.” Katie balked, face going blank with shock. 

“What?” her voice crackled.

“There’s a hotel in town, I think you should go stay there.” 

He expected her to return to her room, slam the door, pack her thing in a huff. Or maybe to go wake Shiro and tell her father how his horrible “new” husband was finally driving a wedge between them. Instead, she just stepped around him and disappeared into the front hall. Seconds later, the screen door slammed shut. As the sound of the truck starting rang out in the night, Shiro starting creaking his way down the old staircase. His hair was mussed, eyes bleary as he poked his head into the kitchen, but he was alert the second he processed the tears dripping off Keith’s chin.

“Baby, what happened? I heard Katie yelling.” Shiro pulled Keith to him, reaching to wipe his face clean. Keith sniffled, a disgusting, wet sound that would’ve made them both laugh at any other time.

“I told her to go.” Another sniff, and he buried his face in Shiro’s neck. “I’m so sorry.” Shiro shushed him and rubbed his back. “She started to say...if I really loved you,” Keith’s voice broke off into another sob. It was a dam breaking, years of jabs and cold shoulders and accusations he’d shrugged off finally overflowing into the collar of his husband’s t-shirt.

“It’s okay,” Shiro promised.

“No it’s not, I kicked your daughter out of our house. She’s gonna hate me forever.”

“That’s my fault, not yours. It’s been on me to handle this and I didn’t do a good enough job. Maybe it’s best if she stays in town anyway, she’s too old to be treating anyone this way, especially you.” Keith sniffed one last time, and lifted his head, standing straight again and wiping his face clean with the drying towel.

“Well, blame aside, she didn’t take her things. I’ve gotta go figure out where the hell she went.” Shiro nodded and released his husband.

“Okay. I’ll wait up.”

“No, you shouldn’t. You need sleep.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go back to bed, but only if you swear you’ll wake me when you get in.”

“Okay.”

“Swear, Keith,” Shiro insisted. He held up his left hand. “On our rings.” Keith grabbed Shiro’s hand with the one that bore a matching band and pressed his lips to metal and his husband’s knuckles to murmur,

“I swear.” Shiro nodded in acceptance, and Keith disappeared just as fast as Katie had. When the screen door slammed again, Shiro turned and headed back upstairs, where his bed was waiting with a familiar faded quilt and Kosmo curled up on Keith’s side.


End file.
